


The Rabbit of the High King

by RuanChunXian



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, rthstewart-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuanChunXian/pseuds/RuanChunXian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Peter sees a stuffed rabbit and looks for Signs.</p><p>Story takes place post-VDT, around chapters 7 and 8 of rthstewart's <a href="../../../works/365698"><em>Apostolic Way</em></a>, and a companion/alternative to her <a href="http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9333907/2/"><em>Lost in Translation </em>Chapter 2</a>. Assumes familiarity with this world otherwise some parts may be confusing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rabbit of the High King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moriwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriwen/gifts).



> Many thanks to heliopause for betaing. Thank you, Rth, for letting me play in your sandbox and sharing your toys.

_"Happiness is a way of travel, not a destination."_

 

* * *

The closer they got to the docks, the more crowded and noisy it became. Amidst that cacophony and the crowd, and considering Lucy's tendency to run off to explore new sights and sounds, Peter thought it was surprising that it took him that long to lose his sister. Eventually, though, he turned his head to apologise to someone he bumped into then turned around to find that Lucy had disappeared and he nearly missed Edmund weaving between bodies to keep up with her as well.

Peter would have little trouble catching up with his brother and sister, if a dash of red had not caught his eyes in the misty grey of the English morning.

There was a small shop – more like a roughly constructed market stall – wedged between a dark alley and another boarded up shop. The stall was piled with all types of items that were increasingly rare in the war time, everything from razor blades to alarm clocks. And apparently, also children's toys.

Most notable was a stuffed rabbit made of red-checked cloth.

The rabbit was smaller than the one he had _There_ and perhaps more crudely made, but in other aspects, it was virtually identical. For a moment, Peter froze and forced himself to listen, to concentrate on receiving the presence of _Someone Else_.

There was nothing.

At least, he hoped there was really nothing, or perhaps the noise of the crowd drowned Aslan out.

Such a ridiculous notion.

Lucy would know if the Lion was here.

The vendor cleared his throat when Peter did nothing but stood there staring at the toy.

"How much is this?" he asked the vendor, almost sure that the price would be too much. Toys were not so much rationed as non-existent now when toy factories have been converted to purposes more useful to the war effort. Peter couldn't work out (and perhaps he didn't want to know) where the vendor got most of his wares from, though some items were obviously hand-made, cobbled together from bits and pieces of various materials.

The vendor named his price, then added, nodding in the general direction where Lucy had gone, "For your sister?"

Peter nodded absent-mindedly, thought it was not true. Lucy had outgrown stuffed toys nearly two decades ago and now preferred toys that were significantly less…fluffy.

He wasn't even sure who the rabbit would be for, because it wasn't as if any of them currently had any prospects of that nature. The words _school-children_ taunted Peter again. And with the future so murky, even in the years to come, it didn't seem likely any time soon…

Was there such thing as coincidence, Peter wondered. _Like this_?

Again, Lucy would know.

By digging the right coins out of his pocket, Peter surrendered to a certain habit, sentiment, and maybe perhaps a _Sign_.

He almost expected warmth, or music, or maybe even lightning when he picked up the toy.

But again, there was nothing. ( _I am attending. I am!_ )

With a slightly disappointed sigh, Peter stuffed the rabbit inside his coat pocket and proceeded down the docks, looking for his sister and brother, finally finding them near a Chinese grocer.

 

 

* * *

The rest of the day was emotional and chaotic, and the startling talk with Mum on the train temporarily pushed the toy out of Peter's mind. It wasn't until they got home that he remembered.

He knew Susan and Lucy were having their talk in their room, but Mum would come and check up on them soon. Edmund and Susan would have their conference after that, likely until Edmund would fall asleep mid-sentence. Then it would be Peter's turn.

Edmund and Susan would want the room to themselves, so Peter headed downstairs to wait for his sister. At the last moment, he inexplicably grabbed the toy rabbit to bring with him. If Edmund noticed and was curious about his newly acquired companion (and since this was Edmund, he probably was), he did not comment, but just went on flipping through his notes in densely written Rat and Crow.

Peter headed into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, and hoped that Susan had managed to acquire something stronger from America for their most-likely-emotional talk later. Just as the kettle boiled, Lucy shuffled into the room and sat down at the kitchen table. Peter motioned towards the kettle and his sister nodded. She silently watched as he made them tea, fiddling idly with the toy rabbit that Peter had laid on the table when he put the kettle on.

"Did the talk with Susan help?" Peter asked, setting the mug of tea down in front of Lucy.

"Some," Lucy admitted. "What's this?"

"Oh, I got it at the docks today. Habit."

Lucy took a sip of tea and then tipped her head to the side in question.

"I remember you bought one like this once, in Galma. For the children, you said, but I never saw the children around Cair Paravel with it, or, really, ever saw it again."

Peter smiled wryly. He wondered how long his sister had kept this curiosity to herself, and only now found an opening to ask. His siblings knew he enjoyed gifting Narnian children toys, but his full stash of toys for human children was never shown to them. He never meant to keep it a secret, exactly. It was just that as much as his habit harboured a hope, sometimes, in darker moods, it was also certain proof of a failure…He felt it enough without rubbing it on his siblings as well.

"I kept it in my office, with other things, waiting for our children," he said after long deliberation. "I suppose, they were all still there, when we…left."

Of course, when he said, _our children,_ he meant those of Edmund and Morgan, or of Lucy and Aidan.

" _Our_ children?" Lucy asked with a slight laugh. "Yours and Susan? Or mine and Edmund's?"

Peter laughed with her, shaking his head at the myths that apparently cropped up in the millennium or so that they were gone from Narnia, and retold to them when they came back second time to put Caspian on the throne. The joke, now, shared with Lucy, was tinged with bittersweet, however. Peter could see that Lucy was holding back.

"You gave out some toys to the Archen children, I remember," Lucy said, more softly, wistfully. "But not the rabbit."

Peter waited a beat, wondering if the name would cross her lips, wondering if those words hurt her. She did not go on, but her eyes were dry.

"I was always fond of the rabbit. I wanted to save it. I wonder now if Morgan managed to make use of what I left behind."

Lucy was startled at the suggestion. "You mean – do you think – "

"I don't know," Peter said. "Morgan always kept her own counsel, especially on things she was uncertain about. Edmund certainly finds it easier to think it was not so. Or at least, I imagine so. He does not speak of it at all. I suppose I cannot blame him."

He also wondered what Morgan thought of his collection, if and when she stumbled upon it (and knowing Morgan, the word ' _stumble'_ might even be literal). If what he believed ( _wished for!_ ) was true, would it bring her some comfort to know that he had taken such preparation? Or would it just be another reminder of what they all never got to share? If his hopes were false, it would only inevitably bring her more heartache.

Lucy's voice brought him back to the conversation.

"It was mentioned, at the How…"

"Yes, but so many of the records were lost and some accounts were so fantastical, I never could decide what to believe."

"Perhaps among the fantastical tales, it is the simple ones that hold most truth," Lucy said.

"At the World's End, you said you heard them. In Aslan's Country."

"Yes, but Edmund didn't tell me who he heard. I mean, it goes without saying that Morgan was one of them, but whether there was anyone else, he hasn't said. It's no surprise, really. He's avoiding even the sight of _beetles_ just because they remind him of the beetle races Morgan used to have with the Crows, I don't expect him to voluntarily bring anything related to her up in conversation at all." She shook her head, sighing. "If only we had more _time_ there. I am sure I could have made out all the voices, not just..."

She trailed off. Peter wondered whether Edmund's _not relevant_ hand-waving tendencies were taking over Lucy too. Just as Edmund remained stubbornly reluctant to say Morgan's name, so Lucy was being with Aidan. But for all that Peter knew Lucy talked to dead people all the time, to be so close to them _and_ hearing them at the same time must have taken its toll on her emotions. He would not press either Lucy or Edmund to be explicit. Perhaps if they could ever be explicit, it might only be to each other. He could not grudge his brother and sister that. As with Mum earlier that day on the train, he felt even more how his inexperience in the matter little helped them now.

"Perhaps it was just as well," Peter said, placing a hand on Lucy's in comfort. "The encounter might have provided some comfort, but you would not be able to help it being painful if you exposed yourself to it too much, Lu. You can't dwell on it always and forget that we live here now."

His sister gave a wan smile. "Susan said that once. _We live here now._ I suppose now there is naught else to do but accept it. No more hopes or dreams of going back now, for any of us."

There was something like finality to Lucy's words and a deep sense of loss in her tone that Peter hardly ever heard from his sister. It occurred to him that even though Lucy, of all of them, might never waver in her faith in Aslan, but that didn't mean she didn't struggle to understand why things happened either.

"It sounds harsh but it is hardly exile, Lucy. To look at it that way would be ungrateful."

Of all of them, Peter knew Lucy was not the one that needed this preached to her. Still, perhaps sometimes she needed a gentle prodding reminder of what she already knew.

"I know," Lucy whispered. "We still feel Aslan here, we still hear him here, and he does not abandon us."

No, Aslan was here. Peter did not doubt that any longer. And yet, looking down at the toy between them now, Peter still couldn't help but wonder, for all that Aslan still spoke to them, whether he was still missing something that must be right in front of him.

"When I saw this today," he said slowly to Lucy, "I couldn't help but think its presence here might mean something. I mean, I probably would have bought it anyway, but still…"

"Everything means something, Peter," Lucy said with a small smile. "You should speak to Aslan about it. I've told Edmund before and I say to you now – you see reminders because Aslan wishes you to."

"I do not hear him like you do, Lucy," Peter said with a sigh; it was an old conversation. "I do not know what use could be made of _this_ particular reminder, other than to force us to remember what we lost, and all the could-bes as well."

"You should not think so pessimistically. Perhaps it is just a reminder that joys to be found There could be found Here as well. You need not suffer to do Aslan's Will, Peter, nor dwell on loss while doing it."

Lucy was speaking, but Peter was sure they were not her words. Lucy saw that he knew this, too, and added helpfully, "He did ask me to remind you when the time came."

"And this is the time?" Peter asked with a smile.

"Well, considering what you will be discussing with Mum soon, and what you have surely made up your mind to do, it would be good for you to know this."

To know, to be aware was one thing. Peter did not think his problem was of understanding anymore. He understood more now what Aslan wanted from him in England than he did at the beginning of the summer, but the road to get to where he was needed was still murky, so that when confronted with obvious signs like this, Peter still found himself flummoxed.

It was a question that bewildered him on his first return, more after his second, and overwhelmingly so now when it was clear that neither he nor his siblings would see the Narnia they knew again.

So the two worlds weren't so different. Yet so what? How were they to act like monarchs in a country that was no longer theirs?

He did not realise he had said this out loud until Lucy replied, "Maybe _that_ is not the point. We have different roles here. But perhaps it is not the destiny that is for us to worry about, but the journey? We can learn as much from a journey here as we did in Narnia."

Peter smiled. So there it was again. There was the guidance that he had sought from Lucy the first time they came back and found themselves sitting in the middle of the night gazing at the Wardrobe in the spare room of the Professor's country house. She had sought comfort in him then, while Peter realised he would always need Lucy to depend on for reminders of _There_ in the times when he might be too caught up in the world _Here._ They had lived both worlds, and it was ungrateful to discard either as insignificant or a bedtime tale to be forgotten when morning came.

So Peter reached out and squeezed Lucy's hand and whispered a word of thanks. He understood that he needed to be firmly reminded of this now too, considering the upcoming conversation with Susan. It would be heartfelt, he knew, but would also be anything but particularly relaxing, considering what Susan had been up to this summer.

Speaking of Susan, there were noises overhead, which surely must mean that Mum was going to check on Susan and Edmund, and if Edmund had not fallen asleep already, their Concert would be ended soon.

"You better get back up to bed before Mum comes down looking for you too," Peter told Lucy.

Lucy nodded, stood up and walked around the table to kiss him good night. "Remember, Peter, now that you are aware of your plans for moving forward here, do understand that Susan will have her own plans as well and she seeks your understanding and acceptance, not your permission."

With what, to Peter at that moment at least, was a rather baffling advice that held some sense of foreboding, Lucy gave him one last smile and headed up to bed.

 

 

* * *

_…And so we are back to chapter 8,_ The Queen Susan in Finchley _of_ Apostolic Way _._

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **Moriwen's Prompt:**  
>  **What I want:** Peter/Lucy siblingfic, either after their return from Narnia or post-Last Battle. (Rthstewart-verse would be extra-awesome, if you're familiar with her works/feel like it. Entirely optional, though.) Plotty or character study is equally fine, as long as it's Valiant!Lucy and Magnificent!Peter.
> 
>  **Prompt words/objects/quotes/whatever:**  
>  I see the grace of God in you  
> His holy light is shining through  
> And I am blessed to be with you  
> O holy child of God! - (not mine, don't know the author)
> 
> And now abides faith, hope, and love, these three; but the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13)
> 
>  **Miscellaneous prompts (pick and choose as you like; no need to include any or all):** scars, checking in all the wardrobes, obedience, war and peace, knucklebones, dancing in the dark


End file.
